


Picking the Lock

by AstraKiseki



Series: Carlos and Cecil's Toybox [1]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Cecil is Human, Established Relationship, Fade to Black, First Meeting, Food, Gen, Height difference, M/M, Making Out, Older Carlos, POCecil, Post One Year Later, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Ethics, Psychic!Cecil, Sexual Repression, Time Skips, Uncomfortable Realizations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-26 01:19:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstraKiseki/pseuds/AstraKiseki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You ask one measly question about the glowing orb that appears over your boyfriend's forehead, and you end up learning your boyfriend's a psychic.  At least he's understanding about the locks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picking the Lock

**Author's Note:**

> Frankly, this is a lot of set up for later fictions, and it's not even the only set up I have to do. You'd think it'd be easy, but nooooo. I hope you enjoy this.
> 
> Anyway, this idea did not occur in a vacuum and I'll be honest, CrossyArt's [psychic link](http://crossyarts.tumblr.com/post/56774546788/wwwwwwelcome-to-night-vale-headcanon-cecil-is) idea and Thaumivore's [Cecil](http://thaumivore.tumblr.com/post/60357041897/thaumivore-ok-but-asian-cecil) are the two primary inspirations for the Cecil here.
> 
> Edit: Didn't realize I had such bad spacing, so... fixed. And added the POCecil thing because well, he _is_ Han Chinese in this fiction.

The first time Carlos had encountered Cecil, he had been just a bit surprised.

With all of the horrors of Night Vale, he had expected its Voice to be otherworldly, perhaps with wings like the Erikas, or curling horns like the twins who had made deliveries.  Perhaps a dragon, or something out of a Lovecraftian horror story.  He had been just about prepared for anything when he had swung open the door, carrying his Geiger counter.

The first thing he had noticed was the room.  It was sparse for how Carlos imagined a radio control room, but this _was_ 2013, most of it was likely digital these days.  Besides the carpet (with its stains that were hopefully coffee), there was a desk, with a few monitors, a few bookcases full of binders and books, faintly lit by a pastel light along with the light bulbs overhead.

Then he noticed Cecil.

For a split second, his knees had buckled.  Not because of any sort of attraction, but because of the halo of lavender light about his brow and shoulders, the seeming star alit just above his radiant eyes, trappings of what he had imagined angels to look like when he was a little boy at Mass.  Of course, he knew better before that, especially after meeting Old Woman Josie and the flock of angels about her, but...

Cecil had blinked, and the illumination was gone.  Left behind in its wake was a slight man, a good seven inches shorter than Carlos' meter and ninety.  His skin was almost like desert sand, the same earthen yellow that wasn't quite right in Carlos' mind, and clashed against the patterns on his shirt, loud, bright swirls of pink and teal.  There were dark eyes with epicanthal folds, gentle creases at the outside corners, along with a kiss of purple exhaustion on the inner corners, and hair the stark shade of onyx, cut short, but enough to fall into his eyes.  For all Carlos had anticipated, he definitely did not expect Night Vale's radio host to be Chinese.  Which was absurd to be surprised about.  A small pit formed in Carlos' stomach, an unpleasant hollowness at the thought that something as simple as race could throw him off after the things that didn't make sense at all in the community.  He was going to have to take a better look at himself about that.

Rocks.  He had come here to study rocks and seismic activity, and now he was sweeping a room for radioactive material and questioning internalized-

"May I help you, Carlos?"  Cecil's eyebrows had risen, eyes wide and a faint smile pulling on his lips.

Of course Night Vale's radio host would know his name.  "Well, I'm just here checking for materials."  Carlos awkwardly waved the counter in his hand.  "Sorry for the intrusion, do you mind if I have a look around?"  The radio host had shook his black hair and slid to the side, still smiling as he gave a grand gesture.

That serenity at least allowed Carlos to be more relaxed, even after the Geiger counter sounded suspiciously like someone had woken up a nest of baby birds, though he couldn't help being extremely confused.  Maybe that was why he had seen a halo about Cecil's head?  Nonsense.

Carlos shook his head to banish the thought.  He had more important things to worry about besides a light show that made his knees week, like uncomfortable assumptions that needed to be considered, radioactive isotopes in station equipment, and undetected earthquakes.

*

It was their fifth date, and over the course of the four other ones, Carlos had noticed certain details.  Occasionally the halo did appear, when his arm wasn't hooked about Carlos' arm and he was walking alone, his eyes often closed and the amethyst illumination on his forehead, something Carlos privately referred to as his star-eye, bright and clear as he almost floated by.  At other times, his fingers fumbled when he squinted at things, and he didn't always look at Carlos.  Instead, he would reach out with a touch of hesitation until Carlos took his hand, and then Cecil would slide his fingers up to brush along Carlos' cheek and his long hair, all with that patient smile.

Carlos and Cecil had made the decision to go to a new restaurant that specialized in cheeses and cheese-substitutes for the lactose-intolerant, which included both men.  While it was opening day, the place hadn't loudly announced its presence due to its owner forgetting to file the right permits (though, apparently Big Rico's knew about it and was already purchasing cheese). Carlos had walked by it every day while it was constructed, so he had seen the one meager sign that was up for a day before the City Council had removed it.  But just in case, he had checked to make sure if Cecil endorsing it if he enjoyed it would get the owner in trouble, and from the look of it, he wouldn't.

Still, it took Cecil awkwardly holding the menu, one that clashed against the watermelon-themed shirt (with black crystal 'seeds') he was wearing, about five centimeters from his nose as he used his star-eye for some sort of lighting for Carlos to ask.

"Cecil, pardon me for prying, but... are you blind?"

Cecil set down the garishly colored menu, blinking with all three eyes to focus on Carlos.  "Oh, no.  It's okay, Carlos.  I'm very nearsighted, and while glasses look absolutely ravishing on you, everything does," He sighed, his shoulders slumping, a surprising amount of emotion for the usually stoic Cecil, "I've always considered them to look terrible on me, and I'd rather not deal with poking my eyes when I can just... you know, borrow the impressions of everyone else's thoughts."

That got Carlos' attention.  "Actually, I don't know about that, Cecil.  What do you mean?"

The star-eye contracted for a moment before both Cecil's normal eyes and it widened.  "Oh!  None of the interns told you!  I'm so sorry!"  He cleared his throat, smiling that faint, kind smile of his.  "You see, I'm a psychic, which means I have telekinetic and telepathic capabilities.  Usually, the Sheriff's Secret Police would have recruited me, but thankfully, my limitations were hard ones, you know, can't be trained any broader, and not very extensive anyway, so it became more useful for Station Management than for the Police or any of the vague yet menacing government agencies.  Though I can easily reprogram myself, so that makes things easier."

"Re... programming?"

"Oh yes, you haven't been though one, I keep forgetting."  Cecil's sonorous voice spoke airily.  "They usually have to probe you, physically, but I can do it on my own, so usually they just give me truth serum to make sure.  

"But anyway," Cecil peered back down at the menu, "I tend to read surface thoughts, since they are _so_ broadcast, it's just this is a new restaurant,  Big Rico hasn't looked at the restaurant menu it seems, and so there aren't any impressions to rely on, so it means I have to use my eyes."

"I see.  So, er, what do you call that?"  Carlos flicked his eyes up towards the radiant, pallid purple orb, with what Carlos assumed to be its pupil, where the three lines all crossed, locking gaze with Carlos for a moment, and then all about.

Cecil cleared his throat, the eye closing in on itself and vanishing.  "I know Pavel calls it one of her chakra, but I feel so uncomfortable borrowing someone else's language for something that isn't the same, you know?  So I really don't have a name for it."  The vague glow of lavender began to creep anew about his shoulders, Cecil's eyes narrowed for once.  "And don't you dare say third eye, that's appropriation too."

Carlos smiled as he held up his hands.  "I wasn't thinking of that, honest!  I was thinking star eye, not a third eye!"  Cecil settled down at that, the ripples of his face smoothing out into its usual tranquility, putting a finger to his lip thoughtfully, the star-eye blinking back into view.  Carlos continued warmly.  "It makes me think of a sphere with an asterism in it, a star sapphire if you would.  In fact, um, can you see mental images if I think hard?"

"Well, of course, but I'd rather have your perm-"

"You have it, Cecil.  I trust you."  To Carlos' surprise, Cecil froze, a flush spreading across his face at the same rate as his mouth curled into a smile, a true smile that showed just a hint of teeth, and a softened gaze.  He could have sworn that the little center of the star-eye had a heart in it as well.  Oh.  At the realization, that he had essentially told Cecil how much he trusted the man, letting him see how he felt, Cecil's expression melted even more, his chin resting on his hands as a blissful smile practically glowed on his face.

Carlos couldn't help but to laugh, which made Cecil laugh in return at the idea of Cecil being so positively _adorable_.  This, this was why Carlos had decided to take a chance, to ignore decades of faith and upbringing, and he didn't regret it.  Once the laughter died down, taking a few minutes and Cecil seeming to forcibly restore himself to his normal, placid demeanor, Carlos had sighed and closed his eyes as he imagined a star sapphire, a white one in a thick, gold ring; his father's class ring.  

A finger gently touched his brow, and then he heard Cecil's voice, a soft, drawn out 'ooh.'

"Wow!  That is perfect!"  Carlos opened his eyes to find that yes, Cecil was poking his forehead with a radiant smile, and his voice a dreamy, content tone.  "I'll start calling it my asterism as well.  It does look like one."  He removed the finger, looking more visibly relaxed before he squirmed.  "Do you mind if I borrow your eyes when you read the menu?  It'd be so much easier."

"Only if we can talk about this later."  Carlos looked back down at his menu, a faint, soothing prickle forming behind his eyes as Cecil's composure returned.  "I'm curious.  But for now, food."

"Of course!"

*

The meal had worked out well, especially with Cecil eager to show off a few of his abilities as he ate.  It wasn't much, just brushing psionic fingers across Carlos' cheek and hands that gently fetched napkins as they ate gluten-free scones with bacon and melted Gruyere, along with visibly-sugar-coated invisible peaches.  The telekinesis, Carlos learned, was generally just about strong enough to lift someone for a minute unless Cecil was upset enough.  The last time that occurred, Cecil had been in high school and on the debate team.  Apparently, there was still a person-shaped indention in the wall of the high school auditorium thirteen years after Cecil had hurled someone with near-lethal force in response to the words 'ching chong.'

The telepathy on the other hand...  Cecil had insisted on taking Carlos back for such a _private_ topic, even though they both knew the Police would be listening.  They had taken seconds of the scones and apparently some sort of soy-substitute that they had been given to sample, that had been flavored with miso and sesame, which had set Cecil singing on the way back, demonstrating how he generally avoided obstacles when his eyesight was so unpleasant.  Generally, it meant memorization and telekinetic practice, gently pushing at things in something similar to echolocation.

"I use it for work every day."  Cecil was stretched out on the maroon couch, lavender light about his shoulders as a telekinetic hand smacked down a tentacle from behind the furniture, and Carlos sat in a buttery yellow beanbag chair across from him. "Station Management built a data link for me, so I get everything in the town in real time, but it also means I have to be very careful with myself; it works both ways, which means I could hypothetically feedback my own feelings if I got upset enough.  They weren't very pleased what happened with that horrible Telly, but at least with the safeguards they put in after that, bloodstone and a little cranial bone from my head, it hasn't happened since.  Thank heavens too," Cecil covered his face with his hands, his lips quirking into a frown as his voice trembled just a little, "I-I don't know if anyone could have saved you if the town had panicked over you at the Bowling Alley..."

"Which reminds me, why didn't you do anything about the Apache Tracker?"

Cecil let out a sigh, turning his face towards Carlos, eyes and asterism rolling about before he turned his head away.  "Don't be silly, Carlos.  I can't permanently alter a person's thoughts without their consent, even if they are a racist jerk, and most definitely not from so far away, not that specific.   And even then, even if someone agreed to something that invasive, it's not really permanent if they poke at it!  That's why the Secret Police never recruited me after testing."  Cecil reached out a hand of light towards Carlos.

Carlos smiled as he reached out to touch the psychic projection, running his fingers across the solid confirmation of something beyond science's current comprehension.  Proof that something the scientific community deemed impossible was quite possible.

"Wonder.  You're feeling wonder, affection, contentment, and..."  Cecil stated mildly, instructive.  His eyes were closed, with the star-eye watching Carlos.  "Nerves.  I can feel it along your skin, across your thoughts, it's beautiful, but..." His hand shifted, dancing along Carlos' wrist, "there's something banked down, like you keep something deep, and it's making you nervous."

Carlos slid out of the chair, letting Cecil brush a telekinetic hand along his arm, to his shoulders, to cup his face.  The sensation was a solid weight, with nothing beyond a faint glow to reveal its presence.  "Well, I still think about the first time I met you, and... well, being surprised you were Chinese.  I didn't expect it."

Cecil shook his head, a glowing finger stopping to touch Carlos' nose as he chuckled.  "I saw that surprise when I met you, and I admit, it is usually a way to tell if someone is new to town.  But you were never a _jerk_ about it and you're working on it."  He shrugged carelessly before he turned over to face Carlos again.  "But that isn't it, my perfect Carlos.  You do keep that in mind, but I've been at this, I mean really at this, for two decades.  I can tell embarrassment and introspection from your sort of nerves blindfolded."  Cecil's fingers walked along his cheek, and about Carlos' broad shoulders.  "Something's lurking about, tucked away in a cage, and not even a very good one either.  It's like a certain non-existent dog park, without being it, where you have been pretending for so long, you actually have forgotten it."

Carlos got to his knees, starting at Cecil as his heart constricted.  Something buried.  He had an inkling exactly what it was. "G-go ahead."  Carlos forced the words out of his mouth along with his breath.  Cecil continued to stare at him, biting his lip.  "You... if there's a lock, you can open it."  The silence grew longer, Carlos scooting closer until his knees bumped against the couch, almost looming over Cecil.  "Damn it, Cecil, what do you want me to say to get you to look in there?"

A drawn out sigh parted Cecil's thin lips, his star-eye fading away and leaving a furrowed brow.  "Oh, dear, sweet Carlos.  I have to remind you that we haven't filed the appropriate paperwork, and it takes a bit of time to get those forms approved, especially when it comes to any sort of telepath.  Consent and communication aren't just important, they're a crucial part of a relationship.  While the Sheriff's Secret Police is listening in on this, and would be pretty certain that you agreed, they do not like any gray zones when it comes to private things like this."  He swung his legs out to settle his shark-slippered feet on the floor on either side of Carlos' legs.  So close to him, Carlos smelled copper and sandalwood.  They were at eye level with one another, a rarity for Carlos, even the few times he had dated in his younger years, before work and guilt had dragged him away.

Carlos swallowed once and leaned forward, a breath away from Cecil's mouth.  I... I would like you to look and see what's inside, Cecil."  He let out a breath, smiling with a fortitude he knew was fragile.  "It's not some sort of trauma.  You can open it."

"Okay."  Now Cecil pressed forward, cupping Carlos' cheek with a psychic hand on one side and a physical one on the other.  He pressed his lips against Carlos' mouth, and then, softly parted them to _lick_ at him.  It took two gentle laps for Carlos to get the idea, and allow Cecil in, and with that, a drawn out groan bubbled out from deep within his throat, rumbling like thunder.

Nothing had quite changed, yet everything had as Cecil pulled away, his dark eyes hooded, the third of his eyes large, almost entrancing.

Carlos mirrored Cecil's hand, trembling fingers running along Cecil's chin and marveling at the contrast of the grounded, iron-oxide tone of his own skin to the soft, golden sand of Cecil's face.  Two shades of earth and geology that became strata as Cecil's second hand gripped Carlos'.     

Carefully, Carlos settled his hands on either side of Cecil, letting out a soft exhalation of air that drained his tension out before leaning away from Cecil, to catch his breath.  Their last kiss had been weeks ago, fueled by anxiety and conventions.  This one was... easier, and Carlos could see Cecil's expression shift away from the vibrant smile that had been on his face when Carlos had told him he trusted him to a minute frown, eyes bright, a faint shudder.

There was no chance in Heaven or Hell Carlos was going to let that go.  He gripped a fistful of lurid salmon and green shirt and pulled Cecil back towards him, savoring the shuddering gasp that came from _his_ boyfriend's lips as he surprised him with a daring kiss.

"So-" Carlos gasped out with a pounding heart, his hands sliding up Cecil's sides, pulling along the watermelon shirt, "-How far can we go?  Without the forms."

"Pants and undergarments stay on," Cecil said automatically, whispering into Carlos' ear, "no groping under clothing, or on the genitalia, except for on holidays, and oh, _please_ ," he pulls Carlos back into a greedy union of lips and tongue, seeming to not care about the shirt bunched up beneath his armpits, "and rubbing.  Rubbing's good.  That's the gist."

Carlos nodded, a grin on his face as he pulled the awful shirt over Cecil's head and tossed it behind the couch.  Better to give whatever back there something as Carlos pressed Cecil against the cushions, spindly fingers unbuttoning his lab coat and the fortuitous button-down he had chosen to wear.  Carlos hissed as those fingers turned out to be akin to _cold_ metal on his brown skin.  He groaned again as Cecil pressed his new advantage and more experience against Carlos.

His stomach knotted itself as Cecil broke the kiss, running his tongue along his thin lips.  Cecil had much more experience with this, he knew how to approach it.  The asterism now blazed purple with a stylized pupil pulsing at the same beat as the heart it was emulating, and it saw the thoughts floating across Carlos' whirling mind.  Decades of nothing, and now he had a willing partner and not quite as much reserve to hinder himself with.

Well, Carlos privately concluded as he slid his hands down to a gentle swell of ass, there wasn't any time like the present to learn.

**Author's Note:**

> Liked this? Well, the good news is, porn's coming. The bad news is I got a second fiction to write before I get there, I have a job, school is starting up soon, _and_ I got a bunch of other Cecil and Carlos interpretations aching to be written.
> 
> If you got a suggestion for any kinks for this series, or feel like I screwed up someone, just throw an ask at [my tumblr](http://astrakiseki.tumblr.com). If you follow it, it's mostly Night Vale, disability, tabletop roleplaying, smut, food, science (with an emphasis on microbiology), and headcanons, with the occasional Hannibal and paid commissions because bribing people to collaborate is awesome.


End file.
